


Sway Me Smooth

by Sodafly



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Gore, M/M, Other, Violence, implied sex
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2011-09-18
Updated: 2011-09-18
Packaged: 2017-10-23 20:34:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,153
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/254707
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sodafly/pseuds/Sodafly
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>When one of his workmen attempts to betray him, Jim Moriarty sets Sebastian Moran to teach him a lesson and enjoys the scene a little too much</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sway Me Smooth

**Author's Note:**

> Another MorMor fic. A nice bit of violence, gore and sexual implications thrown in for you all to enjoy. I haven't read through and will do so in the morning

Sebastian was a fan of jazz music.  Swing jazz, slow jazz, anything and everything that was jazz.   It was a heritage thing really; Sebastian had spent the majority of his life listening to jazz music at full volume due to his father’s keen interest and his adamant reluctance to allow his only son to listen to anything else.  Now, in adulthood Moriarty would come home to the sound of Sebastian listening to ‘Fever’ at pretty much full volume, feeling the other man’s presence emerge from behind him as he walked further in the living room before fingers slide over his hips in a bold act fuelled by animal desire.  The low rumble of Sebastian humming deep in the back of his throat would slither into Jim’s ear as the feel of thick stubble grazed patch of visible skin and his lips teasing against his throat sent his mind ablaze.




Briefly Moriarty closed his eyes, feeling the ghost of Sebastian’s fingers crawl over his skin, pulling off his jacket and loosening his tie as the bass strings panged in his ears deep and seductive in intentions. Opening his eyes again Moriarty was greeted by the screech of trumpets and the Latin like beat of ‘Sway’. He glanced over the back of the chair he was sat in to regard Sebastian who was stood behind him, hidden by the shadows the dimly lit bar provided.

“The soundtrack of choice is a little brighter than expected darling.” It was a tease. Normally they would work in silence, but the area was heavily surrounded and neither of them were in the mood for being caught today, so the louder the music the better they were hidden.  In the darkness Jim could see Sebastian’s lips curl into a particularly nasty smirk.

The two men were in an empty longue bar, the seats and tables had been pushed to the edges of the room leaving the very chair Moriarty now sat in, a single table and a second chair in a line in the middle of the room. The lights were set dim, the alcohol glittering slightly inside their glass containers and the floor glowing rich amber around the spotlight which illuminated the figure tied to the second chair.  A long time ago Moriarty had helped the owner of the club who was a greedy, selfish coward and victim to a marriage about to fall though, taking every single penny he owned with it. Moriarty had disposed of the wife before the divorce papers were ever sent and had this club and 50% of its profit at his disposal ever since.  It was a perfect place to teach a lesson.

A muffled groan sounded and Moriarty loosened his grip on the glass of scotch, swirling the dirty orange liquid so violently that it almost spilled over the rim of the glass. The man currently strapped to the metal bar stool across from him was one of his footmen, a man who was been foolish enough to try and act as a spy for a rival crime boss in America who had been trying to barging into his London territory for years. It was idiotic really and an expensive price fell onto any who decided to even attempt to betray him. Every pawn must be kept in order, every pawn must be disciplined and every pawn was expendable.  

“Would you like a drink Matt, it’s on the house?” Moriarty’s voice is low and smooth as he watched the man in the chair blink, eyes dazed and darting franticly to find where they were, mouth slightly agape but silent so far. He licks his lips; they wouldn’t be silent for long. When the sound of Moriarty’s voice slides across the bar, over the sound of trumpets and Latin drums, makes the man still, eyes wide with panic and starting at the half lit face. All that can be seen of Jim face are his law and the nasty twinkle in his eye. 

Downing the last of the scotch, Moriarty stands, tossing the glass across the room and hearing it shatter against the floor.  Walking across the floor Jim circles the chair, dragging the tip of his finger over Matt’s rapidly rising and falling chest like a cat teasing a just caught mouse.  Slipping his hand up over Matt’s throat and wrapping the other hand in his short hair, Moriarty pulls harshly, snapping Matt’s face back to look at him and digging his nails harshly into the skin covering his jugular. He smiles, looking down with dilated pupils which were ready for the events to come.

“I’m not happy with you Matt; do you know why I’m not happy?” He coos, voice rising a couple of octaves and patronizing in tone as his finger gentle strokes the other’s cheek.  Matt stutters, shaking his head in fake innocence. They always did that, people had to be so boring and predictable.   

“Oh I think you do sweetheart” Glancing up, Moriarty looks straight at the dark corner Sebastian is hidden in as a signal for him to show himself. As soon as the imposing figure of Sebastian Moran, dressing in suit trousers and a white shirt and tie, appeared like a monster crawling out from under the bed, Matt’s breathe started heaving, legs kicking and slamming back against the chair. When Sebastian Moran appeared, laying a thick roll of fabric on the edge of the table then every man had an indication of his fate.

“Someone has been trying to tell some very mean people about what goes on here and I know who the exact fool is.” Sebastian slowly, undid his cufflinks as his boss spoke, rolling up the sleeves of his shirt to the elbow.  Moriarty slaps Matt’s cheek hard, twisting his hold on the man’s hair. “Keep your eyes on me darling; you’ll have plenty of time to eye up Sebastian in just a moment.”

There is a pause, Moriarty relinquishes his hold on his captive and perches him on the armrest of the chair. He’s growing bored and takes the time to check his iphone for messages before pocketing it inside his suit jacket.

“People don’t cross me Matt, and if they do, they get a little be of quality time with Sebastian here.” Leaning down he whispered in Matt’s ear “And Sebastian does love to make them scream for me.”

Matt is panicking, eyes wild and heaving in short sharp pants. Rising, Moriarty strolls back toward his chair, touching Sebastian’s forearm as he passes and flopping back down into the leather chair. He crosses his legs and watches as Sebastian unrolled the heavy fabric on the table to reveal a selection of tool he can use to grant any type of pain possible.

“What do you want me to do?” Sebastian asks, fingers dancing over various blades. Moriarty ponders, he doesn’t want to kill him, not yet, he wants to make an example to the rest of his men before doing that.

“ Make sure he can’t walk, and I never want to hear that pathetic voice of his again.” nodding Sebastian takes hold of a long, thick steel nail and a hammer. Later he would probably use the blowtorch and the switch blade.

“Seb! Seb wait you know me, you know I would never betray Jim” Matt begs as Sebastian crouches at his feet, taking his time to angle the point of the nail so that it drive into his kneecap and saying nothing in the process.

“Come on Seb, please, he listens to you. I didn’t do it I swear I- ” The pleading dribble was cut off with a sharp hollow of agony as Sebastian rammed to nail straight through his leg, the bloody point producing from the other side and dripping with blood and the tearing of flesh.

Moriarty watched, crossing his legs and biting his finger as Sebastian created puncture after puncture with all the accuracy of an artist craving at marble.  The screams mingled with the shrill trumpets that continued to blare through the speakers and Jim was certain that Seb would be humming along as he worked, barely listening to the sound of splintering bones and ripping flesh.  Cooper blossomed in the air, flooding in Moriarty’s nose and making his head rush with delight and intoxication.  Blood ran onto the floor, thick and dark like syrup shimmering on the black tiled floor.  The sight, the sound, the smell, it sent jolts of pleasure up his spine and made him twist with delight.

Matt looked like he was about to pass out form the pain. No, they weren’t allowed to pass out, passing out would ruin all the fun. Standing up, Sebastian dropped his blooded tools to the ground with a clatter and took a syringe from the table, stabbing it harshly into the captives neck. Adrenaline surged, forcing their victim alert and aware. 

Moriarty’s eyes widened with glee as he watched Sebastian saunter over to the fireplace which burn on the other side of the room and removed a poker with an ear shattering shriek.  He could see Sebastian’s lips ever so slightly as he sang along to the music billow his breath as the song repeated on loop. He was enjoying this almost as much as his boss was.

And so approached the grand finale, involving Sebastian’s strong fingers grasping Matt’s jaw in a vice grip and forcing it open, hooking the pads of his fingers over his teeth in order to lock his grip. Matt with whimpering, starting up at him with red eyes as tears soaked his cheeks, it made Sebastian smirk in a friendly way which was more unnerving than if it had been a smile of venom.  

The smell of burning flesh erupted alongside the muffled screams as the poker was shoved into Matt’s mouth. Sebastian forced his knees against his gut to stop him from thrashing as he choked, tongue turning black as the metal rolled over the muscle. 

Withdrawing, Sebastian dropped the poker alongside his other tools, watching as Matt finally passed out. They would leave him there, tied up and bleeding to death and allow Moriarty’s cleaning staff to dispose of the body. Later they would most likely chop off his burnt tongue and mail it first class to any member of Matt’s family just for the sake of it.

Slowly, Moriarty took his finger out from between his teeth and uncrossed his legs, watching as Sebastian turned to face him.  His white shirt was soaked with dark patches of blood, some of which had splattered onto his face and was sticking to the skin of his lower arms like glue. His wild and gory appearance sent a shiver down Moriarty’s spine.

“Hm, honey we’re going to have to buy you a shirt; good thing I saw an Armani shirt which would suit you perfectly.” Moriarty purred as he approached his assassin. He could see now dilated Sebastian’s  pupil were in the dark light, obviously he had been enjoying the work a little bit too much.

“Is that why you make me wear nice shirts when doing this job? So you can buy me ones from the latest season?” Another tease as Sebastian went to grab him by the waist. Jim slapped his neck in warning.

“Don’t touch me. You’re covered in blood and this suit is worth more than your life.” Sebastian growled but made no other attempt; instead he walked over to the table and wiped his hands on the fabric roll.  Jim cocked his head as Seb bent down to pick up the tools. The fabric of his suit trousers stretched perfectly over his arse and suddenly the rush of drunken pleasure that had fuelled him that evening became overbearing.

“Seb, I don’t think I can stand the site of you in that bloody suit anymore.” It was code for ‘hurry up and let’s get home so we can fuck’ and Sebastian was more than happy to comply. Stuffing the roll of weapons back into his bag, Sebastian swings the strap over his shoulder and followed Jim out of the club.  As they neared the door, Jim felt a hand wrap around his wrist and he was whirled around straight into a kiss. The taste of blood which wasn’t their own lay upon Sebastian’s lips alongside the sweet taste of Jack Daniels mixed with coke he had been drinking before hand.  He had been wise enough to position his body so that it didn’t lean against Jim’s suit otherwise the boss would have gone into a tantrum over his ruined suit and deny any kind of pleasure that was currently being granted.

“Come on sexy, I’m sure your cock can wait two minutes.” Jim purred again, twisting sharply on his heel and proceeding out the door.

“I wouldn’t count on it.” Sebastian said, following after him and leaving the jazz to sing to itself. 


End file.
